mmcdlxxx

I attempt the tango.

     If I had it to do all over again, I think I would

     choose a career in the sex industry.

                                                            —Franz Wright

This was supposed to be fun.

I wish that I could say that I

don’t pay so much attention

to my environment.  As I

scrutinize everything with-

in my purview, I segue into

the plan for tonight: cooking

dinner for everyone.  I’ve

been so utterly happy lately

(don’t look—I’m rolling my

eyeballs all the way back

towards my brain again).

But I’ve found a remedy

for happiness.  Overtime

creates negative space.

Whoops!  Be careful not

to complain.  But if you

do (ah, bachelorhood),

the top of my list is

going to be therapy.

He’s a brutal boy,

overwhelmingly.

Also, I’m waiting,

cruising, so much

further than ever

before (overwhelmingly,

you silly pilot!)....  Also, 

I’ve gone green (like gays

everywhere; I’m such a

follower).  Or is it guys

everywhere?  Thank you

for not being alone and

depressed on Sunday night,

peering into Castro Station

at the bitter end of Pride

Weekend, which is an

oxymoron, like me

passing out afterwards.

Currently, I’m passing out

flyers for a dying dragon.
And Lady Sinatra’s boots.